


A Christmas Carol in Ketterdam

by Lynn_Forster



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Characters can be ooc, Christmas Project, F/M, M/M, a christmas carol!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28271496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_Forster/pseuds/Lynn_Forster
Summary: Ketterdam is an imaginary city on the southern coast of Victorian England.Kaz Brekker, famous businessman and director of a successful publishing, lives there, he's rich and powerful, but also alone and disliked by everyone.He's greedy and grumpy and nothing seems to warm his cold, stone heart, not even the love of his adoptive family, nor the kindness of his new business partner, Mr Fahey.But on Christmas Eve, a supernatural meeting is going to change everything.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	1. The beginning of it

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Here my Christmas project, I worked at it for a while and I really hope you'll appreciate it!  
> Don't worry for my other stories, I will update them as soon as I can!  
>   
> I also take the occasion to suggest you Sarai's A Christmas Carol AU: [A Crows Christmas Carol](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248030/chapters/69222138)
> 
> Okay, here some notes before you'll start reading: I tried to adapt Dicken's story in an "experimental" way. As I said in the summary, here Ketterdam will be an imaginary city in Victorian England.  
> I kept elements and lines from the original "A Christmas Carol", but I also made some changes, to make it more "personal".  
> For example, Kaz works in a publishing, Jesper is not his clerk but his new business partner (I didn't give him Fred's role because I wanted the last scenes to be between him and Kaz) and the ghosts will show scenes that are not in the book.  
> As I warned, charaters may be a bit OOC in this story.
> 
> I really hope I did a good adapting job, thanks to everyone who will read!

Haskell was dead. No doubts about it, there were people at his funeral and Kaz Brekker was there too.  
He and Haskell were business partners at the _Haskell & Brekker _publishing, they had been for years, working side by side. Per Haskell took Brekker as his clerk when the younger man was only a teenager, but, thanks to his amazing skills, it didn’t take too long for his career to improve.  
Brekker was such a clever businessman, he was smiling even at his partner and previous mentor’s funeral, because the same day he made a lot of money.  
Yes, old Haskell was certainly dead. But after three years, there was still his name, above the office door, instead of Fahey’s, Brekker’s new business partner.  
‘ _Haskell and Brekker_ ’, the signboard said. Sometimes, people called Brekker “Haskell”, but he always answered back. It was the same, for him.  
Oh, but he was a mean man, Brekker, a man who never gave away his money. Some popular legends, never confirmed and never denied, told he was ready to do anything for his own profit, that's why some people also called him “Dirtyhands”.  
He walked down the streets, limping, a cane in his hand, his hands always covered in black gloves. A man in his mid twenties who looked like a surly elderly, with sharp features, short black hair and cold, dark eyes.  
Nobody stopped him to talk, nobody asked him: “My dear Brekker, how are you?”  
Children never spoke to him. Even dogs ran away from him.  
But should you think Mr Brekker suffered about this, you couldn't be more wrong: he couldn't care less. Actually, he liked it.  
Three years after Per Haskell’s death, on Christmas Eve, Brekker was sitting at his desk, in his cold, squalid office.  
Jesper Fahey, his partner, a tall, young man with dark skin and thick, black curls, was reading and correcting a new manuscript; sometimes, he rubbed his own arms and sighed, trying to shield himself from the cold air of the room.  
He had been working with Dirtyhands for almost a year and everyone, customers and associates, always said he was a much better partner than Haskell, thanks to his brilliant mind and his kind, cheerful attitude, but Brekker never showed any kind of positive feeling towards him.  
People wondered how the gentle man could resist, how he could work with that cruel, swindler partner.  
“Shouldn’t we lit the chimney on?” Fahey suddenly asked. “I’m freezing. Are you insensitive to the cold?”  
Brekker shot a furious glance at him: “Are you aware of the cost of the coal? You’ll soon forget about the cold, if you focus properly on that bloody manuscript, trust me.”  
Jesper raised his eyes to the ceiling: “You won’t be ruined for burning some coal, my friend. I will buy it by myself, if you're afraid your wallet will cry, if you open it.”  
Brekker was going to tell him to shut up and to stop calling him “my friend” because they weren't friends at all, when the door opened and a giant, blond, young man came in. He was so tall and broad he had to remove his hat and lower his head a bit to walk through the threshold.  
He was Matthias Helvar, Brekker’s adoptive cousin.  
“Merry Christmas, Cousin!” he said. “And Merry Christmas, Jesper!”  
“Bah!” Brekker answered, before Jesper could reply to Matthias’ wishes. “Humbug!”  
“Christmas a humbug?” the blond frowned. “You don’t mean that, I’m sure…”  
“Of course I do!” Brekker hissed, standing up. “ _Merry_ Christmas, he says. How can you be merry? You’re not rich.”  
“You are rich, Cousin, and yet you’re always unhappy.”  
Kaz shot at him a fierce glower: “This world is filled with fools. You say _Merry Christmas_ , when you’re always a year older and, probably, poorer. Let me have my Christmas and leave me alone.”  
“You don’t even celebrate Christmas, Brekker,” Jesper said.  
“Why should I do it? I hate Christmas because I don’t make any money at it.”  
“To be honest,” Matthias interrupted him. “I see Christmas as a gentle period, where people try to be kinder and help each other.”  
“They should do it during the whole year,” Jesper observed. “And not only on Christmas. But yes, we obviously appreciate good intentions.”  
The blond gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder: “You know what? I like Christmas and I say God bless it! Oh, please Cousin, don’t look at me like that! I would like to invite you for dinner, tomorrow. You never come to see me… Granny misses you and my children barely know your face…”  
“Why should I come?” Brekker grunted. “Only to bare the sight of your annoying, idiot life style?”  
“What’s your problem with my life style, Cousin?”  
The young man's gloved hands turned into fists: “Why did you get married?”  
Matthias exchanged a quick look with Jesper, then he smiled: “Because I fell in love!”  
“Because you fell in love!” Brekker spat. “You fell in love, condemning yourself to squander your money for a family, instead of investing it properly! What a stupid move, what a waste!”  
“Yes, Matthias, come on!” Jesper replied, sarcastic. “It’s so stupid to enjoy the warmth of love, instead of cuddling with cold, huge hills made of money!”  
“I am so sorry for your opinions, Cousin…”  
“Good afternoon,” Kaz replied.  
Matthias put his hat on his head: “Well, my invitation is still valid. And it's valid for you too, Jesper. Would you like to come with your family?”  
“We have already planned the dinner. But we’ll be happy to join you later, thank you, Matthias!”  
“It seems you've just found the extra guests you wanted, Cousin,” Brekker growled. “Now, if you don’t have any valuable reasons to be here, I wish you good afternoon.”  
“And I wish you Merry Christmas!” Matthias replied.  
“Good. Afternoon.”  
The blond giant said goodbye to Jesper, then, he walked away, a smile on his lips.  
It didn’t take a long time before the door opened again: two gentlemen came in, one of them was fat, with a scruffy beard and big blue eyes, the other was tall and slim and he wore a large, fancy hat.  
Kaz raised his eyes to the ceiling, while Jesper went to greet them, smiling.  
“Good afternoon,” said the fat gentleman. “Mr Haskell and Mr Brekker, I guess?”  
“Mr Haskell died three years ago,” the kind businessman said. “I am Mr Fahey, Mr Brekker’s new partner. We should definitely change that damn signboard, but, you know, _changing a signboard is a waste of money_!” he added, imitating Kaz’s grumpy voice.  
Dirtyhands grunted, glowering at his associate: “Mr Fahey is always so hilarious. By the way, what do you want, you two?”  
The gentleman with the fancy hat cleared his throat: “We’re Mr Rotty and Mr Specht. We’re part of a charity association and, in this time of the year, we involve wealthy people into donations to help the poor.”  
“Times are hard,” Mr Specht added. “Thousands people have nothing to eat for Christmas.”  
“That's a wonderful idea!” Jesper echoed.  
“Tell me, Mr Rotty and Mr Specht,” Brekker interrupted them. “Aren’t there any prisons?”  
The two gentlemen exchanged a confused look: “Lots of prison, Mr Brekker. All fully operative.”  
“Aren’t there the workhouses?”  
Mr Rotty sighed: “Unfortunately yes.”  
“Fine! I am happy to hear it!”  
Jesper shook his head, while his partner started to check his business documents again: “I pay each year for prisons and workhouses. I do my duty as a citizen. That’s enough!”  
“If I may, sir,” Mr Specht said. “Workhouses are terribly harsh places. People… well, most of them would die, rather than live there…”  
“They should die, then! Good thing! There are already too many people in the world!”  
The two gentlemen widened their eyes, horrified. Brekker didn’t even look at them, they weren’t worthy of his time, as much as the poor they helped.  
Poor people, bah! _Lazy_ people, they should be called!  
Wasn't he poor too, once? Hadn’t he faced misery and struggles? Oh yes, he did.  
But he had been able to rise from his wretchedness, fighting and working hard. He was one of the richest men in Ketterdam, now, and no one, but himself, had helped him.  
“I’m so sorry,” Jesper sighed, escorting Mr Rotty and Mr Specht to the door. “I will contribute to your fundraising. My situation isn’t the wealthiest, at the moment, but I’ll be glad to help your cause. You can come to my house later.”  
“You’re such a gentleman, Mr Fahey,” Mr Specht replied, while the young man wrote down his address on the list he was holding with his plump hands. “May God bless you.”  
“How can you work with… such a being?” Mr Rotty whispered.  
Jesper shrugged, shooting a quick glance at his commercial partner: “I must resist. As I said, my situation isn’t so good, at the moment. Too long to explain, but I try to be optimistic.”  
Kaz snorted, signing a document. He pretended he didn’t hear them, he didn’t want to share a single extra word with that pompous gentlemen.  
He even ignored Jesper’s disappointed glance, once they walked away. He just kept working in silence, until the big pendulum clock that rested behind Mr Fahey's desk sang seven tolls.  
“I bet you’re going to suggest me to keep the publishing close, tomorrow,” he grunted. “Aren’t you, Mr Fahey?”  
“It’s Christmas Day,” the young man replied. “We won’t be ruined, if we close only once a year…”  
“Twice, if you consider Easter. Not to mention all the Sundays. An amount of fifty days a year without making a single penny. Well, unfortunately, you’re my commercial partner, so, if you won’t sign with me to open the office on Christmas Day, there’s nothing I can do. Fine. I just hope you’ll be here early, on the 26th.”  
“Don’t worry,” Jesper replied in a plain voice, wearing his green scarf and his hat. “Have a… uh, a decent day, tomorrow.”  
Once his young associate walked away, singing merrily down the street, Kaz let a grunt out, he locked the door of the publishing, checking twice it was safely sealed, and then he started limping towards home, his cane ticking on the sidewalk.  
People around him changed their way, when they saw him approaching. Sometimes, he felt the impulse to silently walk by gentlemen with long coats, put his hand into their pockets and steal their wallets, like he did fifteen years before.  
But he almost immediately shook his head: he wasn’t a poor, homeless child any more. He was probably richer than all those gentlemen.  
_Stupid old habits,_ he thought, glowering fiercely at a choir of children who sang Christmas songs in front of the church. They almost instantly shut up.  
_How can they all be so stupid?_ he thought, once he reached his dark, old manor. _How can they be so blind? None of them has a single, valid reason to be happy!  
_He brought the keys out of his pocket and took a quick, careless glance at the large knocker.  
He usually never looked at it. And he wasn’t thinking to Haskell in that moment.  
So… why was the elderly man’s face on the knocker?  
Kaz frowned: yes, it was old Per Haskell’s face, nothing less! It was surrounded by a pale light, his cold eyes met the young businessman’s glance.  
He looked at him over his small, round glasses, in the same way Haskell did when he was still alive.  
Brekker shook his head, taking a step back and blinking confusedly.  
When he looked at the knocker again, his old partner’s face had disappeared. All he saw was nothing more than a large, worn-out knocker.  
“Bah!” he grumbled. “Humbug!”  
  



	2. Haskell's Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post two chapters a day!  
> Thanks to everyone who will read and follow the story!

Darkness was cheap, that’s why Kaz Brekker liked it.   
He was all alone in his house: his housekeeper, Miss Anika, always stopped working at half past six, to be sure to avoid him (except during the salary day).  
She had left his frugal dinner (some soup, a slice of bread and two pieces of meat) into the turned-off oven, trying to keep it a little warm with no success. But Brekker didn't care about it, he preferred a cold dinner to a waste of money.  
Before suiting himself, he checked every room of his large house: everything was at its own place, as usual, and nobody was hiding into a closet, under his bed, nor in his dressing-gown, which was hanging up in a suspicious attitude against the wall.  
Once he concluded his inspection, he double-locked himself in, he put on his dressing-gown, slippers and nightcap and he went to the living room, sitting down on his armchair before the old chimney and finally having his dinner.   
As it was expected, the fire in the chimney was very weak, because Brekker didn't want to waste more wood than necessary, and, also in that case, he couldn't care less about the cold.  
He suffered far worse conditions and survived far colder nights in the streets. And he was only a child, at that time.   
For a moment, he thought he saw old Haskell's face again, in the flames, but he rapidly shook his head, finishing his soup.  
“Humbug!”  
A sudden, musical noise made him wince. Brekker raised his eyes to the  disused bell that hung in the room over his head and communicated, for some forgotten purpose, with a chamber in the highest story of the manor.   
He couldn't believe it: the old bell was swinging. No doubts, it was swinging at its own will, and, soon, all the bells in the house followed its example, filling every corner with their sinister song.  
It lasted for a minute or less, but it seemed to be an hour. And then, as they began, they suddenly stopped together.  
Before Mr Brekker could do or say anything, another weird noise soon followed: it sounded like someone was dragging a heavy burden with a chain.   
It crossed the entire entrance hall and came up the stairs, slowly, strenuously. Then, when it reached the closed door of the living room, it stopped for a while.   
“It's humbug still!” Brekker yelled. “I won't believe it!”  
His face went white and a loud scream came out of his mouth when a huge, transparent chest was thrown into the room, passing through the door and landing a few inches from his feet.   
Much to the young businessman's horror and disbelief, a human figure, a ghost, entered the room in the same fashion: it was an elderly man, a familiar elderly man, who wore a familiar waistcoat and a familiar pair of round glasses.  
Around his waist, a thick chain, that bounded him to the heavy chest. Watching carefully, Kaz noticed the chain was made of cash-boxes, keys, locks, ledgers, deeds and heavy purses wrought in steel.  
“Mr... Haskell?” the young man murmured, placing the rest of his dinner on a little table, his hands trembling.  
The ghost, Per Haskell's ghost, stared at him with his cold, dead eyes. A thick bandage wrapped his head and chin.   
“Well? How now!” Kaz insisted. “What do you want with me?”  
Finally, the ghost spoke. His voice was Haskell's voice, no doubts, Kaz remembered it well.  
“Much...”  
“Who are you?”  
The sinister apparition slightly reclined his head: “Ask me who I  _was_ ...”  
“Who were you, then?” Mr Brekker said, raising his voice.   
“In life, I was your partner, Per Haskell.”  
Dirtyhands gave him a doubtful glance: “Can you... can you sit down?”  
“I can...”  
“Do it, then.”  
Haskell floated to the opposite armchair, sitting down, as he was used to do when he was still alive, and giving Brekker that typical Haskell glance over his small, round glasses.   
“You still don't believe in me, do you? Why do you doubt your senses, Kaz?”  
The young man swallowed: “Because... because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef or stuff like this! I'll repeat it: humbug! Just humbug!”   
He wanted to add something else, but words died in his throat when the ghost let a frightful cry out, angrily shaking his chain and, much to Brekker's horror, his jaw slipped out of the thick bandage and dropped down upon his chest.   
“Stop!” Kaz screamed, sinking in the armchair like he was trying to get swallowed by it. “Dreadful vision, why do you trouble me?”   
“Man of the worldly mind!” the phantom replied. “Do you believe in me or not?”  
“I do!” Brekker replied, sitting more properly. “I must. But why do the spirits walk the earth and why do you come to me?”  
"It is required of every man," the Ghost said. "that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander around the world and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth!"   
He let another pitiful cry out, sinking his finger in his gaunt face.   
For a moment, Brekker was almost tempted to straighten his hand towards the spectre, to comfort him (he was sure that touching a spirit was different than touching human flesh), but he soon changed his mind.   
“You... you are in chains, Haskell... tell me why...”   
The ghost grabbed his long, heavy chain, approaching it to the eyes of his living business partner: “I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I put it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wear it. Is its pattern strange to you?   
“What... what do you mean?”   
"Do you have any idea,” Haskell continued. “about the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was as heavy and as long as this, three Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since. It is a hefty chain!"   
An unpleasant lump started to torment Kaz's throat. Instinctively, the young man looked down, almost expecting to see a heavy chain around his waist. But he could see nothing.   
“Per,” he murmured. “Old Per Haskell, please, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Per!”  
A veil of stoic sadness fell on the ghost's eyes: “I have none to give, Kaz. Nor I can tell you what I would. I haven't much time left. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. In life, I never walked beyond the narrow limits of our publishing. Now, I'm condemned to walk eternal, restless journeys.”  
“Three years dead,” Kaz commented. “And travelling all the time?”  
“The whole time. No peace, no rest.”  
“Do you travel fast?”  
“On the wings of the wind.”  
“Then you must have got over a great quantity of ground, in three years!”   
Haskell cried again, louder and angrier: “I have been blind, Brekker, blind! I missed all the opportunities I have been gifted when I was alive and now remorse will torment my soul forever!”   
“But... but you have been a good man of business, Per...”  
Haskell's ghostly eyes were filled with pain. It was no clear how he could still talk with his dislocated jaw.   
“Business!” he spat, leaning forward until his face was a few inches from Brekker's. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”   
He painfully sighed, sitting back on his armchair: “Hear me, Kaz. My time is nearly go.”  
“I will. But don't be hard upon me... isn't anything I can do, to give you some relief?”  
Per Haskell shook his head: “No one can do anything for me. But there's still a chance for you. You can escape my fate. I'm here to warn you, tonight.”   
A little smile appeared on Brekker's usually plain lips: “You've always been a good friend to me, Per. Thank you.”   
Haskell fixed the bandage around his head: “You will be haunted by three spirits. Without their visits,” he stated, standing up and interrupting Brekker's protests with a gesture of his hand. “you'll have no chance and hope to escape my punishment. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls once.”  
“Couldn't I take them all at once, and have it over, Per?” Brekker asked, standing up as well, while the ghost started to walk towards the window, carrying his heavy burden.  
“Expect the second on the next night at the same hour.” Haskell continued, ignoring his question. “And the third upon the next night, when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. About meeting me again, it won't happen any more. But I warn you, Kaz Brekker: do not forget the words I shared with you, tonight!"   
With a single gesture of the spirit's hand, the window opened and, as feeble and light as a whisper, Per Haskell flew out of it.  
Kaz tried to chase him, but he stopped, horrified and shocked, once he saw the terrifying scene outside: the air was filled with phantoms, all of them moaning and crying restless, all of them wrapped in chains and carrying their own burdens. Some of them were linked together. None were free.   
Brekker gasped, seeing he was familiar with some of them. One of those, Mr Smeet, was an old ghost, with a monstrous iron safe attached to his ankle.   
He was crying desperately, unable to help a poor, wretched woman who was sitting on the street, holding an infant close to her breasts.  
Kaz could feel all the desperation and misery of those who lost forever the power to interfere in human matters and, unable to bare more of those pitiful visions, he closed the window and ran to his bedroom.  
“Humbug!” he tried to say, closing the door and leaning his back against it, but he stopped at the first syllable.  
He locked the door, with trembling hands, then, he went straight to bed and fell asleep upon the instant.   



	3. The Ghost of Christmas Past

_Dong!_   
Kaz Brekker woke up, trembling and panting. He felt like he had slept through a whole day and night.  
“Wha-what is it?” he murmured.  
He was sure he had heard the bell tolling one, but it wasn't possible: the pendulum clock on the opposite wall said it was a quarter to one, Kaz could see it through a small gap between the curtains of his bed.  
Suddenly, he remembered the conversation he had with Per Haskell and his warning about the three visitors who were going to haunt him.  
_“Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls once.”  
_ With his hands clenching the hem of his blankets, Brekker waited awake, anxiety rising in his chest.  
It seemed to be the longest quarter ever.  
Finally, the bell tolled a deep, dull, melancholy one and, after a moment of silent, the locked door of the room opened and a small, bright figure elegantly walked in.  
The curtain of the bed were drawn aside and Brekker found himself face to face with a young Shu man, with familiar, graceful features.  
He wore a long gown of the purest white, his waist was surrounded by a beautiful, shiny belt and, on his head, that was covered in soft, black hair, there was a little crown made of fresh, green holly.  
Both his hands were occupied: the left one was holding an extinguisher cap, while the right one, which was open, the palm facing up, was carrying a bright, round flame.  
Brekker cleared his throat, taking his time to recover from the surprise.  
“Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was I was told about?”  
“I am.”  
His soft, gentle voice awoke some memories in Kaz's mind.  
“Wait, I know you! You're the young scientist who lives in the house next to my cousin's! Doctor Yul-Bo! How is it possible?”  
The spirit blinked once, imperturbable, fastening the cap to his belt: “I am not a human being. My appearance is a product of your own mind. You couldn't bare the sight of my true form.”  
“Oh...”  
Dirtyhands hesitated for a moment: “If you're not Doctor Yul-Bo, who are you then?”  
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”  
“Long past?”  
“No. Your past.”  
The flame in his hand sparkled brighter. Kaz rubbed his own eyes: “Spirit, may I ask you to cover your flame?”  
The ghost frowned: “What! Would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give? We're just at the beginning of your journey. There's a lot to see. Take my hand, now, and walk with me.”  
After a little hesitation, Mr Brekker obeyed. The spirit's grasp was gentle, yet strong, and, as they started walking together, Dirtyhands felt there was no chance to go back to bed, there was no escape from that strange adventure.  
However, he gasped and almost stopped when he saw the ghost was making their way towards the window, that magically opened.  
“Wait, Spirit!” he winced. “I am mortal and liable to fall!”  
The phantom slowly turned his head and approached his round flame to the man's chest: “Bear but a touch of my flame there and you shall be upheld in more than this.”  
Brekker expected to see his nightgown catching fire, he expected pain and an unpleasant smell of burning flesh, but all he could feel was a warm, gentle prickle, that soon filled his entire body, a golden stream travelling through his veins.  
His feet left the ground and, hand in hand with the spirit, he flew out of the window.  
He expected to see the familiar buildings of his neighborhood, with their lonely, dark streets, but all he saw, instead, was a solitary pier, covered in snow, with a couple of abandoned, little ships moored on its left side.  
The sea was quiet and grey, the wind carried a few to none smells on its wings.  
“Fifth Harbor...” Dirtyhands murmured. “I spent part of my childhood in this area...”  
His eyes widened, seeing a little boy, around eight or nine, walking on the pier, his old shoes sinking in the snow. He was skinny and pale and he was wearing a coat that was twice his size.  
A painful lump started to torment the businessman's throat: “That kid... he's me...”  
“He is,” the Spirit nodded. “He's the Kaz Brekker from many Christmas ago. But his name wasn't Kaz Brekker, at that time. It was...”  
“Rietveld. It was Kaz Rietveld.”  
The kid stopped on the edge of the pier, staring at the sea. His eyes were filled with melancholy, rage and sadness. He was alone. He was always alone.  
“What happened to him?” the ghost asked.  
Kaz bet that, somehow, he already knew the answer, but he still felt the necessity to answer, to tell his own story: “His parents died when he was a toddler. His brother... my brother, Jordie... he took care of me for some years... we only had each other... and then, he fell ill and died too. He left me alone...”  
“And the reason why you hate the touch of human flesh... is linked to his death, isn't it?”  
Brekker shivered: “I... I don't want to talk about it...”  
He gave his younger self a pitiful glance: “Poor boy... poor, poor boy...”  
A tear fall down his cheek. He rapidly wiped it away.  
“Do you want to see another Christmas?” the spirit asked.  
Kaz nodded.  
The grey quiet of Fifth Harbor vanished: now, they were flying over a crowded square. A joyful Christmas song filled the air and people were gathering in front of long, inviting stands.  
“It's the street market...” Kaz murmured. A little smile curved his lips when he saw his younger self, that now was around eleven or twelve, furtively limping among the crowd; he had broken his leg the year before and the lack of medical treatments made him a cripple.  
The boy approached a middle-aged woman, a tall lady with long, silver hair. She was buying some fruits at the greengrocer, completely unaware of the little thief.  
It was too easy: little Kaz slipped his hand into the large pocket of her coat, grabbed the wallet and, as fast as an illusionist, he hid it under his worn out, old coat.  
He had taken just a few steps ahead, when a young voice yelled: “Hey!”  
Little Kaz immediately started running, slipping through the crowd, chased by a blond boy who was probably the woman's grandson.  
He was only a year older than him, but he was much taller and broader than the boys of their age.  
They reached the little park next to the square: the blond kid was slower, but he was also terribly stubborn and little Kaz was suffering from days of starvation and sleepless nights, so he ended up caught.  
From his elevated position, Mr Brekker let a little laugh out, looking at the kids who were rolling and fighting in the snow.  
“Matthias... I remember what I thought, when he got me:  _I cannot believe this big, stupid oaf is going to send me to jail_ !”  
“But it didn't happen...” the Ghost of Christmas Past observed.  
Brekker shook his head, a softened smile on his lips: “No...”  
He stared at the scene below: Granny, the elderly woman, approached them, holding hands with a little, blonde girl, around two or three.  
Little Kaz was struggling against Matthias' strong grip, yelling at the older boy to let him go.  
“Well, well...” Granny said. “What do we have here?”  
“Let me go!” Kaz cried, angrily.  
“Give Granny her wallet back!” answered Matthias, shaking him.  
The woman knelt before them and looked Kaz straight into his dark, furious eyes: “Why is a good kid like you doing such a bad thing like stealing?”  
“I am not good!”  
Granny tried to touch his cheek, but she stopped seeing the sudden panic in his glance.  
“You don't like to be touched, do you? I won't touch you, then. Tell me, my boy: do you have a home? A place to stay? A family? Obviously you don't,” she added, before he could answer. “If you had, you wouldn't be a little thief. God, look at you! You're so emaciated and dirty... and that old coat... I bet you're starving and freezing...”  
Above the scene, Mr Brekker sighed: his eyes went a bit wet, but he tried to hold the tears. The spirit noticed it and gave him an interrogative glance.  
“That evening,” the man explained. “I found a home and a new family. Granny, Matthias, Little Inga. Granny could send me to jail... but she chose the way of love and compassion... she saw a needing child, instead of a little thief...”  
“That's a good thing, human. But why do I perceive a pinch of sadness in your heart? Granny has always been good to you...”  
“Yes...”  
“What is the matter, then?”  
Kaz sniffled: “Nothing. There was a boy wandering in the street all alone, yesterday morning. He wore worn out clothes and he was probably hungry... I should like to have given him something. That's all.”  
The Ghost smiled, waving his hand: “Let us see another Christmas!”  
They found each other in a large, warm room, where a large number of people, a large number of familiar faces, were laughing and dancing together.  
“I remember this place!” Kaz said, enthusiastically. “Granny always took us there on Christmas Eve! Look! It's old Radmakker!” he added, pointing at a man with a green smoking and a huge top hat, who was dancing with Little Inga. “Bless his heart; it's Radmakker alive again! He hosted wonderful parties in his house, especially on Christmas holidays, and he also invited his employees. Granny worked for him too and, for a short period, he also took me and Matthias as apprentices. A kind, joyful heart, he had...”  
Out of nothing, Mr Brekker's thoughts went to his partner, Mr Fahey. He had a kind, joyful heart too, he never lost an occasion to be generous and warm.  
_I should like to be able to say a word or two to him just now,_ he thought, before getting distracted by his younger self, who was visibly amused by his cousin's clumsiness and shy attitude towards an attractive, plump, curvaceous girl in a red dress. The same girl he would have married some years later.  
“You both had special moments, during this Christmas party...” the ghost said.  
Brekker's cold heart suddenly started to beat faster.  
“We did.”  
His “special one” showed up when he was sitting on a large armchair, giving his leg some rest and struggling not to laugh when his cousin was dragged under the mistletoe by the girl in red.  
“Spirit...” the young man murmured, instinctively grabbing the ghost's sleeve. He tried to say something, but words died in his throat when he saw the petite, beautiful girl approaching his teenager self.  
She was wearing a violet, elegant gown and her ravenous braid was adorned with a silky ribbon.  
“Excuse me,” she said. “I'm afraid my braid is unravelling... can you help me, please?”  
Her shiny, dark eyes... her soft, brown skin... her voice!  
Brekker felt a marvellous sense of warmth filling his soul and he clasped his hands before his chest. After a decade he could still feel the sensations she made him feel on their first meeting.  
_Inej_ ...  
For a moment, he forgot everything around him and all he wanted was to stay there forever and live that scene again and again, but the voice of the ghost called him back to real life.  
“My time grows short. Quick!”  
Radmakker's ballroom vanished. Now they were in the familiar office of the publishing.  
The new version of Kaz Brekker was an older one, a man around twenty, whose face had begun to wear the signs of care and greed.  
There was an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye, which showed the passion that had taken root, and where the shadow of the growing tree would fall.  
He was sitting at his desk, curved over his countless documents, but he wasn't alone in the room.  
Inej sat in front of him, on the opposite side of the desk. She was wearing a modest black dress and a thick veil of sadness covered her eyes.  
“It matters little,” she murmured. "To you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.”  
Brekker raised his glance from the documents, frowning: “What idol has displaced you?”  
“A golden one.”  
The young man finally put his pen down, giving her his attention: “This is the even-handed dealing of the world! There is nothing as hard as poverty!”  
Inej sighed, her fingers massaging her temples. She looked so tired...  
“You fear the world too much, Kaz. All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, absorbs you. Have I not?”  
“What, then? I have grown so much wiser, that's all! But I'm not changed towards you...”  
He stopped, seeing her shaking her head.  
“... am I?”  
“Our contract, our promise is an old one,” she answered, gentle but saddened. “It was made when we were both happy of what we had, even though it wasn't much. But you are changed. When it was made, you were another man...”  
“I was a boy!” he replied, showing the first signs of impatience.  
She lowered her glance: “Your own feeling tells you that you were, not what you are. There was a time when you couldn't even bare the touch of my skin and yet I didn't need you to do it, because I could still feel you. Now you're able to hold my hand for a while and even to briefly kiss me, but there's a wall between us. I think there's only one thing I can do, now: I release you from your promise.”  
She stood up and turned around, clearly intentioned to leave, but Kaz stood up too and stretched his hand over the desk, touching her arm.  
“Did I ever sought release, Inej?”  
She stopped, meeting his eyes: “In words? No. Never.”  
“In what, then?”  
“In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. Tell me, Kaz, if this had never been between us, if we weren't linked by the promise we shared, would you seek me out and try to get my love?”  
He hesitated: “You... you think not...”  
Her lips curved in a sad smile: “I would gladly think otherwise, if I could. But if you were free today, tomorrow, yesterday, will you choose a girl who's struggling to become a dancer and has no assurance for her future? Will you choose a girl whose parents are circus artists, instead of rich merchants or businesspeople? You, who weigh everything by gain? Ah... no. And, should you be false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do you think repentance and regret won't soon burden on your shoulders?”  
With a fierce pain tormenting his soul, Mr Brekker silently prayed his younger self to say something, to leave his desk and his heartless documents, to take her hand and beg her not to leave.  
But he could do nothing of this.  
“Those are just shadows from the Past,” the Spirit murmured, guessing his thoughts. “They cannot be changed...”  
Twenty-year-old Kaz stood still and silent, while Inej gave him a last, sad smile: “With a full heart, for the love of him you once were, I release you from your promise, Kaz. May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”  
She opened the door of the library and walked away.  
Blinded with rage and pain, Mr Brekker tried to grab his younger self's collar, but his hand went through it.  
“Go after her!” he yelled. “Stop her! Stop her, you idiot!”  
His eyes went wet and swollen and, when he forcibly accepted the fact his past self couldn't hear him, he angrily grabbed the ghost's wrist: “Stop! Show me no more! Conduct me home! Why do you delight to torture me?”  
The phantom replied with a stoic glance: “One shadow more.”  
“No more! No more! I don't wish to see it! Show me no more!”  
His cry went unheard.  
He found himself in a changing room, where Inej, his beloved Inej, was gathering her hair in a bun. She was wearing a shiny, golden ballerina dress and she looked anxious but also excited.  
Suddenly, someone entered the room: it was a tall, dark skinned, muscular man, whose long, black hair reached his shoulder blades.  
“Are you ready for your great debut, 'nej?” he asked.  
Watching carefully, Brekker noticed the young man's eyes were fixed straight ahead and they barely moved, a clue that suggested he was blind.  
Inej sighed, giving him a bright smile: “I am. I can't wait.”  
“You'll be great, I'm sure. Oh, you'll never guess what happened before: I met an old friend of yours, this afternoon!  
“An old friend, Fèran? Who?”  
A smirk curved Fèran's lips: “Mr. Brekker, he was. Me and my wife were walking in the city centre and passed his office window. Madeleine said she could scarcely help seeing him, since he had a single candle inside. His partner and mentor lies upon the point of death, I heard, and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.”  
Tears were falling down the young businessman's cheeks now. The sight of Inej's disappointed and sad glance, the thought Mr Haskell spent his final days alone, with no one comforting him... it was too much.  
“Spirit!” he yelled. “Remove me from this place!”  
“I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,” said the ghost, his voice hard. “That they are what they are, do not blame me!”  
“Remove me!” Kaz cried louder. “I cannot bear it!”  
He turned upon the Ghost and saw that he looked upon him with a face, in which in some strange way there were fragments of all the faces he had shown him.  
“Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!”  
With an angry, desperate move, Brekker seized the extinguisher cap from the ghost's hand and pressed it down upon the flame in his hand.  
With his eyes still wet, Kaz found himself in the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we met the first Ghost who took Kuwei's appearance. The flame in his hand is obviously a hint to "original" Kuwei's powers.  
> And we got Kanej angst. But don't worry... there's a reason why Kanej is the first ship I put in the tags...  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. The Ghost of Christmas Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the second Ghost!  
> A little warning: I know Wesper couldn't be a couple, in Victorian England, at least not with other people knowing it, but since this is a fairytale, I decided to take this little license.   
> I hope you'll like the chapter, thanks to everyone who will read!

When the darkness faded away, Kaz found himself in his room again, in his bed.   
He sat up, an unpleasant sense of anxiety raising in his chest, and he took a peek through the curtains: the pendulum clock tolled one. Again.   
No one showed up, but an alarming red light covered the entire floor, like a glowing mist. Mr Brekker noticed it came from under the closed door of the adjoining room, so, with his heart drumming into his chest, he shuffled in his slippers to the door.   
In the moment he touched the lock, a strange, female voice called him by his name, ordering him to come in.   
Swallowing, Kaz obeyed and, once he entered the room, his dark eyes widened in surprise:  he didn't only find himself in his living room, that was already quite weird, since it should have been in a different floor, but the entire environment had been transformed.   
The high walls were filled with beautiful Christmas themed decorations, a lively, warm fire was crackling in the chimney and, in the middle of the room, there was the most magnificent and unusual throne he had ever seen.   
It wasn't made of wood, stone or gold: it was made of roasted turkeys and geese and any delicious kind of meat; it was made of mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, rosy apples, juicy oranges, delicious pears, immense cakes, and bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.    
At the top of this amazing throne, there sat a jolly, glorious giant woman, who was holding a glowing, horn-shaped torch.   
“Come in!” she said. “Come in and know me better, man!”  
There was something familiar in her voice, but Kaz felt somehow intimidate and he took a few steps ahead, keeping his eyes to the floor.  
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present!” she thundered. “Look upon me!”  
Mr Brekker reverently did it. The fat, glorious body of the giantess was wrapped in a bright green robe, bordered with white fur. Around her waist, there was a simple but beautiful silky belt, with an empty sword holder fastened to it.  
When the man found the courage to look at the ghost's face, his mouth opened in a surprised O.  
Her full, rosy cheeks, her magnificent green eyes, her long, dark curls...  
“Nina?” Kaz murmured, recognizing his cousin's wife.   
The spirit frowned, then let a loud laugh out: “I am not a human being, you foolish man!”  
“Oh... true...” he said. “Your appearance is a projection of my mind...”  
The giantess smiled: “Have you ever walked forth with my elder brothers?”  
Kaz blinked: “I don't think I have... I am afraid I have not. Do you have many brothers, Spirit?”  
“More than eighteen hundred.”  
“A tremendous family to provide for...”  
He immediately bit his tongue and waited for the ghost's reaction, hoping she wasn't offended by his comment. Luckily, the woman let another laugh out, even louder than the first one, and she rose.  
“Come with me, man.”  
“Yes, Spirit,” the businessman said. “Conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion and I learnt a lesson which is working now. Tonight, if you have anything to teach me, let me profit by it.”  
“Touch my robe.”  
Kaz did what she told and, immediately, the glorious throne disappeared, along with the room, the merry decorations and the crackling fire.  
The man and the ghost were now flying over the familiar, snowy city streets, where kids were running, throwing snowballs at each others and singing happy Christmas songs.  
People were doing their last commissions before dinner and the usually grey, sad Ketterdam now was filled with a merry atmosphere.   
Mr Brekker was tempted to take a peek into the grocer's store, but the Spirit seemed more interested in a flock of poor people who were gathering in front of the bakery's, where some kind hearted citizens were giving each of them a box with a nice, warm meal inside.  
Among those citizens, Kaz noticed a familiar man, with red hair and a thick beard  
“I know him!” he exclaimed. “He's Mr Fahey's father!”  
The ghost gave him a little smile, but didn't answered. She started instead to drop sprinkles of light from her large torch over the poor people, who immediately looked merrier and rejoiced.  
And when there were angry words between some dinner-carriers who had knocked into each other, it was needed just a little magic from the mysterious object and their good humour was restored directly.   
“Spirit, is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your torch?” an astonished Brekker asked.  
The giantess widened her smile: “There is. My own.”  
“Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?”  
“To any kindly given. To a poor one most."   
“Why to a poor one most?”  
The ghost raised an eyebrow: “What do you think? It's because it needs it most.”  
Mr Brekker looked at those needing persons with a pensive glance: “Spirit...” he murmured. “I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment.”  
“I!” cried the Spirit.  
“You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all, wouldn't you?”  
“I!” she repeated, louder.  
In front of her reaction, Kaz took a step behind: “You... you seek to close these places on the Seventh Day, don't you? Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family...”  
For a moment, he thought the giant woman was going to crush him with her magical torch, but she only shot a severe glance at him: “There are some upon this earth of yours who claim to know us and do their deeds of greediness, hatred, intolerance and selfishness in our name. Those are strangers to us, their actions are done in the name of their own profit, not ours. Remember that and charge their doings on themselves, not us.”  
Kaz nodded, promising he would, and the Spirit softened her features, smiling, and, with a gesture, she changed the scenery, taking him into a nice, cosy house.   
The dining room was ample and warm, merrily decorated, and the large table, sided by four chairs, was covered with a delicate white and silver tablecloth.   
A pretty, red haired woman, in her late forties, was placing plates and cutlery in front of each chairs and, as Brekker noticed in a second moment, a lovely piano music filled the air.  
Suddenly, the doorbell rang and the Spirit took the businessman to the entrance hall. Kaz widened his eyes, seeing his partner, Mr Fahey, dressed in an elegant, green suit, opening the door and greeting his father with a hug.  
“This is Mr Fahey's house...” the young man murmured. He had never been there, even though his colleague had invited him more than once.  
“Hi, Da'!” Jesper said, helping the man to remove his coat. “How are you? It must be freezing, outside...”  
“I'm fine, Jes, don't worry,” the older man (Colm, his name) replied. “It has been so touching, taking care of those people.”  
“It is. Thank you, Da'...”  
“For what, dear?”  
Jesper's lips curved in a tender smile: “For everything. For coming in Ketterdam to spend Christmas with us... for distributing meals at my place, today, I wouldn't have made it, with the dinner to be made...”  
“I am so happy to be here with you,” Colm replied. “And what you do for those people is amazing. Your mother would be so proud of you.”  
Father and son hugged and Mr Brekker couldn't help but smile.  
“Spirit... I had no idea Mr Fahey was among the volunteers who feed the poor every week...”  
“You know almost nothing, about your partner,” the giant woman said. “You've been working together for a year, it's quite shameful, isn't it?”  
The man lowered his glance, blushing a bit. When he rose his eyes, he was in the dining room again: Mr Fahey's father was sitting at the table, with the red haired woman and a young man with auburn curls, who Kaz recognized as Wylan, Mr Fahey's boyfriend.   
“How are things, here?” Colm asked, lowering his voice. “About the... debts...”  
Wylan sighed: “We're trying our best. All of us. But what my father left... it's a heavy burden... Jes' work and my music lessons are helping, but we'd have to work for at least three years more, to pay all my father's debts... and without considering the cost of the lawyers for all the bureaucratic stuff and... the medical research...”  
Colm nodded: “How is Little Leila?”  
The woman, who had to be Wylan's mother, curved her lips in a little smile: “She... she looks stronger day by day... and the doctors are so kind, they never ask us to pay...”  
“They don't,” Wylan murmured. “But the research they're doing for her illness is quite expensive... we donate every time we can, but...”   
Colm Fahey sighed: “I will donate to the research too, I would like to do more, but...”  
The redhead lady made a quick gesture and he shut up, turning around and giving a wide smile to Jesper and the little girl who was entering the room with him.  
From his position, Mr Brekker could smell the delicious scent of the turkey his partner was carrying.  
“Look what a turkey, look what a turkey!” the little girl happily cried.  
She was an adorable child, around three, whose brown skin and lucid, black, braided hair, painfully reminded Mr Brekker of his beloved Inej.  
But what made his eyes widen, was the little crutch she used to walk.   
Suddenly, every piece of the puzzle took its own place: Kaz remembered when, about a year before, he read on the newspaper about the death of a rich businessman, Jan Van Eck.   
Van Eck had been sent to prison due to several scandals and, when he died, he left his family filled with debts.   
“I remember of Van Eck,” he murmured. “Mr Haskell knew him well. A huge idiot, he was. He repudiated his first wife and their son and remarried with a much younger woman. How ridiculous he looked, when he walked on the streets with that poor, pregnant blonde girl by his side... what did it happened to her?”  
The Spirit blinked: “She died in childbirth. Leaving a baby girl.”  
“Little Leila...” the man continued, looking at the girl who was sitting between Jesper and Wylan, laughing and yelling “God bless us every one!”   
It was clear she wasn't Van Eck's biological daughter, but she was a very beloved member of Fahey's family.   
“Spirit...” the man said, with an interest he had never felt before. “Tell me if Little Leila will live.”   
“I see a vacant seat, at that table” replied the Ghost. “and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, the child will die.”  
“No!” Mr Brekker cried, words coming out from his mouth before he could realize it. “Oh, no, kind Spirit! Say she will be spared!”  
“If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, none other of my race will find her here.” returned the Ghost. “What then? There are already too many people in the world!"   
Brekker shivered, hearing his own voice and words coming from the giant woman's mouth.  
He looked at her, unable to say more. She looked him back, with a kindly severe glance: “Man, hold back that wicked thought until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it is. Will you decide who shall live and who shall die?”   
Kaz opened his mouth to reply, but he turned to the happy family scene when he heard Mr Fahey pronouncing his name.   
“I somehow pity my fellow partner. I'm figuring him, all alone, in his sad, dusty manor...”  
“Who cares about that scoundrel!” Wylan replied. “For the way he treats you, Jes... I bet he often cheats on your salaries and steals from you!”  
“Wy,” the young man said. “The little girl... it's Christmas Day. Let's leave this negative thoughts outside of our dinner.”  
“You're right, Jes, I'm sorry. I propose a toast to out family!”  
“To our family!”  
Mr Brekker wanted to see more, but the time was getting short, as the Spirit said. The man blinked once and, suddenly, he found himself in a completely different environment, an environment he knew.  
They were in a bright, dry, gleaming room, where about fifteen people were sitting on cosy armchairs and chairs, drinking wine and laughing.   
Among those people, Kaz immediately recognized his cousins.  
“Did he really say it, Matt?” Inga asked, almost breathless. She had grown up as a pretty, sophisticated girl.   
“He did!” Matthias replied. “He said that Christmas was a humbug! He believed it too!”  
“More shame for him, love!” Nina replied. She was sitting on the sofa, cradling the youngest of their kids, a beautiful, chubby baby girl who was born in the first months of the year.   
Kaz looked instinctively at the Spirit, who had the woman's same appearance. She replied with an amused smile.  
“He's so full of money,” an elderly, familiar voice said. “But his wealth is of no use to him. He doesn't do any good with it. He doesn't make himself comfortable with it. I often think of him, wondering why he chose to live like this, with values I didn't raise him with!”  
A painful lump started to torment Brekker's throat. Granny was the one who spoke.   
How long it was, since the last time he went to visit her?  
Two kids run towards Matthias, who took them in his arms, kissing their full, rosy cheeks.  
“I am actually sorry for him,” he commented. “Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself and only himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence?”  
“He's losing a very pleasant afternoon and a good dinner!” answered Doctor Kuwei Yul-Bo.   
“Exactly,” Mr Helvar smiled. “Pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. But you know what? I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not.”  
“Good luck with this, then,” said the young man's best friend, Doctor Helèna Parr, a well-known surgeon. “Well, who wants to play some games, now?”   
Without even realizing it, Mr Brekker let himself be caught into the general enthusiasm, ending up answering to many questions at the “How, When and Where” game, that appeared to be Nina's favourite.   
The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in that mood, and looked upon him with such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed. But this the Spirit said could not be done.   
“One more game, Spirit!” he begged. “Just one more!”  
“Just one more,” the giantess accorded.   
It was a Game called “Yes and No”, where a person had to think of something, and the others must find out what; they only answered to questions with yes or no, as the case was.   
Matthias was the first one to play the role of who answered the questions.   
“Are you thinking to an animal?” asked Inga.  
“Yes.”  
“Is it a fantastic animal, Papa?” echoed Aenya, the oldest kid.  
“No, love.”  
“Is it a savage animal?” inquired Doctor Parr.  
“Somewhat yes.”  
“Does it live in a zoo?” asked Doctor Yul-Bo.  
“No.”  
“Does it growl and grunt?” asked Nina.   
At that moment, Matthias started laughing: “Oh, yes, definitely!”  
“I have found it out!” Granny finally said. “I know what is it, love!”  
“What is it, Granny?”  
An amused, yet benevolent smirk curved the woman's lips: “It's your Cousin Kaz!”  
All the people in the room laughed for a good while.  
“He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure,” said Matthias. “And it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Cousin Kaz!”  
“Well! Cousin Kaz!” they cried, raising their glasses.  
Kaz was still elaborating all the emotions he was feeling at once, when the whole scene vanished in front of his eyes.  
He and the Ghost travelled along the city, seeing rich and poor people celebrating in their own way. When their reached the Cathedral, the sky was dark over their head.   
When Kaz looked at the Spirit, he noticed she has grown visibly older: her hair were grey and her plump face was filled with wrinkles.  
“Are spirits' lives so short?” the man asked.  
“My life upon this globe, is very brief,” replied the Ghost. “It ends tonight.”  
“Tonight!”  
“Tonight at midnight.”  
Brekker tried to add something, when he instinctively looked down: what he saw made him frown.   
“Spirit,” he said. “I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw? “  
“It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it. Look here!”  
From the folds of her robe, she brought two children, wretched, frightful, hideous.   
They knelt down at her feet, and clung upon the outside of her garment.   
Horrified, Brekker took a step behind, looking away.  
“Look here, man! Look down here!”  
He obeyed.   
The kids were a boy and a girl, the ugliest, skinniest, dirtiest he had ever seen. They looked so scary, with their wolfish appearance and their fierce, red eyes, but, at the same time, they looked powerless and miserable.  
“Spirit...” Brekker murmured. “Are they... are they yours?”  
The giant woman gave him a severe, stoic glance: “They are Man's. And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree!”   
A cold wind started howling.  
“Spirit!” Kaz yelled, trying to make his voice louder than the wind's. “Have they no refuge or resource?”  
The Ghost looked at him. Her green eyes were hard and fierce and, despite her elderly appearance and the white curls that framed her face, she appeared majestic and frightful: “Are there no prisons? Are there no houses for the poor?”  
Twelve loud, hollow tolls came from the bell tower of the cathedral.  
With a last, loud, merry (but somehow scary) laughter, the Ghost disappeared.   
As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, Brekker remembered Old Haskell's words.   
From the mist, a solemn, dark, hooded figure slowly walked towards him.   



	5. The Ghost of Christmas Future

The phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. When it came near him, Brekker bent down upon his knee, for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.   
Their black cloak covered their entire figure, concealing their face and body. Nothing of them was visible, except for their outstretched, skinny hand, that was covered in a white glove.  
“ I am... in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?” Kaz asked.   
The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.   
“You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us?”  
The ghost slightly moved their head. Their silence made Mr Brekker shiver.  
“Ghost of the Future!” he said. “I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, I am prepared to bear you company and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?”  
No answer. Not a single move.  
“Spirit,” the man insisted. “The night is waning fast and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!”  
Suddenly, the ghost opened their hand and made a quick gesture. Darkness surrounded them for a while and, when it vanished, Brekker realized he was still in front of the cathedral, but, somehow, he perceived there was something different in that environment.  
First of all, the mist had faded away and the sky was grey, instead of black.   
A small group of gentlemen, all of them well known to him, were walking down the steps, talking, an amused smirk on their faces. The ghost pointed at them, so Kaz went closer to hear their conversation.  
“No,” said one of them, a man with a red, round face. “I don't know much about it, either way. I only know he's dead.”  
“When did he die?” another one inquired.  
“Last night, I believe.”  
“What happened to him? He was still young and seemed in good shape, except for his little problem... he looked like someone who never dies...”  
“God knows...”  
“What has he done with his money?”  
The gentleman with the red face shrugged: “I don't know. Left to his company, maybe. All I know is he hasn't left it to me.”  
The all let a loud laugh out.  
“It's likely to be a very cheap funeral,” he continued. “No one is going to attend it. I don't know of anybody to go to it. Suppose we make up a party and volunteer?”  
“If a lunch is provided, why not, then?”   
The gentlemen walked away, laughing.  
An unpleasant sense of anxiety filled Mr Brekker's chest. He turned his eyes to the Spirit, who, without saying a word, pointed at something behind the man's back.   
When he turned around, Kaz found himself in the warm, bright room of an empty tavern.  
The door opened and, soon after, a familiar, blonde woman walked in, with a large bag on her shoulder.  
“Miss Anika!” Mr Pim, the host, exclaimed. “Do you need help?”  
“I'm fine,” she replied, placing the bag on a table. “You should take a look, here. This stuff is so good.”  
“Did you take it from... him?”  
“Who else, then? He doesn't need it any more. With all the poor, needing people outside, it would be a waste, to leave it there. His cousins said I could take and donate anything I wanted. They don't even want to hear his name again, not after their poor grandma died of sorrow because of him.”  
The host took a look inside the bag: “Those blankets are so fine!”  
The housekeeper shrugged: “He isn't likely to take cold without them, I dare say. They'll keep warm some poor, now. And look at this nice shirt! Some fools proposed to bury him with it, but I stopped them. There's someone who need it more than him, in the city.”  
Mr Brekker listened to this dialogue in horror. Shivering from head to foot, he looked at the stoic ghost.  
“Spirit,” he said. “ "I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this!”  
The scenario had suddenly changed. They were now in a dark, cold, silent room, with a bed in the middle. On the bed, an unmistakable, human figure laid motionless beneath a ragged sheet.   
Much to Mr Brekker's horror, the spirit pointed at it.  
“Spirit...” the man murmured. “This is a fearful place. In leaving it, I shall not leave its lesson, trust me. Please, take me away from here...”  
The ghost stood still and silent, their finger constantly pointed at the figure on the bed.  
“I understand you,” Brekker said. “and I would do it, if I could. But I have not the power, Spirit. I have not the power. Please, if there is any person in the town, who feels emotion caused by this man's death, show that person to me, Spirit, I beg you!”  
The ghost moved its hand and, much to the man's relief, the dark room was replaced by a small living room, where a man and a woman, who were presumably husband and wife, were hugging.  
“Is it true, then?” she asked. “Is he really dead?”  
“He is. I'm finally free from his disgusting presence!”  
“Who will take his place?”  
“I'm not sure, yet. His partner left the office a year ago because he couldn't bear him any more. I know he has been asked to come back and lead the company on his own. I hope he will accept, he's such a good hearted person, but, in case he won't, I'm not worried at all. No boss could be worse than that horrible stingy. And I bet no one would pay me less than he did. We may sleep tonight with light hearts, my love!”  
Brekker's heart was heavier, his stomach and throat were tormented by painful lumps.   
Things were going worse and worse.  
“Spirit,” he begged. “"Let me see some tenderness connected with a death, or that dark chamber will haunt my thoughts forever!”  
The small living room became suddenly larger and filled with nicer furnitures. But the atmosphere was grey and sad.   
Kaz immediately recognized that place.  
“We're in Mr Fahey's house...” he said.   
Colm, Wylan and his mother (Marya, Brekker suddenly remembered her name was Marya) were sitting at the table, surrounded by a heavy silence.   
The woman was trying to sew a nice handkerchief, but her glance was vacuous and distant and she didn't seem to pay much attention at her work.   
Suddenly, Jesper entered the room, but his glance, oh, his usually warm and happy glance had lost all its bright light.  
Wylan went immediately to hug him: “Love... have you been there?”  
“Yes, my dear,” the tall man replied. “I wish you could have gone. It would have done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there every Sunday...”  
His voice broke and tears started to fall down his cheek.  
“Out little child... our little child...”  
Colm and Marya joined the hug and they all cried together.   
“She was a sparkle of sunshine,” Jesper sobbed. “She gave light to our lives, even though it was for a short time...”  
“That light will live forever in our hearts.” Colm murmured.  
“Oh, yes, it will. We will never forget our Little Leila.”  
Kaz looked away, struggling to hold his tears. He couldn't bear that scene any more, he couldn't bear all that pain.   
For a while, he figured Little Leila sitting at the table, laughing, clapping her little hands at the sight of the marvellous dinner, like she did in the shade Ghost of Christmas Present showed him and, in that moment, the cold stone that surrounded his heart broke in thousands pieces.  
“Spirit...” he said, his voice broken. “Something informs me that our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. I don't want to see more of this... and I realized the fear I felt in the dark room is nothing compared to the pain I'm feeling right now. Tell me who was the man we saw lying dead? Who was that lonely, wrecked soul, abandoned by everyone?”  
In a blink, Brekker found himself in a large graveyard, under a sinister night sky.   
He immediately recognized that place: it was the Black Veil, the main burial place in Ketterdam, a little island situated in the middle of a channel, in the South of the city.   
The Spirit guided him to a lonely, neglected grave, a mound of dark dirt with a poor rectangular stone, covered with snow.   
It was clear no one took care of that grave.   
“Spirit,” Mr Brekker said. “Before I read the name written on that stone... answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that  _will_ be, or are they shadows of things that may be, only?”  
The ghost pointed downward to the grave by which they stood.  
“Men's courses will predict certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,” the man insisted. “But if the courses change, the end will change too. Say it is thus with what you show me!”  
No answer.   
Trembling, Kaz knelt down, in front of the grave, and removed the snow that covered the letters on the smooth, cold stone.  
His heart sank and, for a moment, he almost forgot to breathe. KAZ BREKKER, the written said. His own name.  
“No!” he cried. “It was me, the man who laid in the dark room! It was me! That couple was celebrating my death! And my cousins! Neither my cousins cared about me! And Granny! She died of sorrow because of me! And maybe... maybe if I was a better partner to Jesper, Little Leila would be still alive!”   
No... no, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't accept it.   
“I died alone, in my house...” he murmured, unable to stand up. “And I couldn't even... I couldn't even see Inej for the last time... I couldn't even tell her I was wrong, I couldn't even tell her that I'm so sorry and I love her, all I want is to be with her again! And if she doesn't want me back... I would still give everything I have, just to see her smile again, even for a moment... because a single moment spent staring at her smile is worthier than all the treasures in the world!”  
He finally found the strength to look at the ghost: “Spirit! Hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope!”  
For the first time, the hand appeared to shake.   
“Good Spirit,” he continued. “Your nature pities me. Assure me that I can change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!”  
The kind hand trembled.   
“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the past, the present, and the future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”  
The ground beneath him started to shake and crumble, the dirt soon turned into sand.  
Much to his horror, Brekker sank slowly.  
“No! No! No! Spirit, help me!”  
The phantom stretched their hand towards him and, for a moment, while he was frantically trying to catch it, Kaz noticed an alteration in their hood and dress.  
But it was too late.  
With a horrified scream, he fell into the darkness.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're approaching the end of the story.   
> In the evening I'll post the final chapter.   
> I think we all know what's going to happen in the next chapter, so maybe ths cliffhanger is not so cruel... maybe?  
> Thanks to everyone who's reading!


	6. The end of it

He waited for the pain, for the cold, for the dark hollow. But, when he finally found the courage to open his eyes... he was in his bed. In his room.  
A shy, lovely daylight came in from the window.  
“I'm home...”  
His blankets were still there. His curtains, his wall clock... everything was still there.  
He was still there.  
“I'm here! I'm alive!”  
He jumped out of the bed, looking around, touching his own face and hair with his bare hands.  
How long did he sleep? Was it only just a dream?  
He rapidly wore his nightgown and went downstairs, to the sitting room, where everything begun.  
“The saucepan with the soup is still here...” he noticed. “That's unusual. I always put it in the sink, when I finish my dinner... that means...”  
He ran to the window, the one where he saw the wandering spirits, and he opened it.  
A little smirk curved his lips, when he saw Miss Anika in the street, kneeling down next to the poor woman with the baby, the one Mr Smeet's ghost couldn't help.  
The young housekeeper removed her own wool shawl, offering it to the trembling lady, and she started talking her with a kind smile.  
“Miss Anika!” Kaz called.  
The woman raised her glance and her smile vanished.  
“Yes, Mr Brekker, I'm coming.” she replied, coldly.  
“Can you tell me what's today?”  
“What's today?” she said, incredulous. “It's Christmas Day, Mr Brekker. Salary day.”  
Christmas Day?  
“I didn't miss it, then,” he murmured. “ The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can... Miss Anika!”  
“Yes, Mr Brekker.” her voice sounded quite annoyed and harsh. “I'm coming, I said!”  
“It's freezing outside,” he continued. “Why don't you take the lady and her kid in? ”  
The housekeeper frowned: “I... what?”  
“We can offer them a nice, warm breakfast. The box Granny sent me for Christmas is always filled with good things, like honey muffin... do you like honey muffin, ma'am?”  
The poor woman blinked, visibly confused, but she nodded.  
“Are you feeling well, Mr Brekker?” asked Anika. “Did you hit your head?”  
“Maybe I did,” he replied. “Please, come in, now.”  
  
  
  
The city looked different. The streets, the buildings, the shops... even the people looked different.  
Brekker spent a very busy but pleasant day, buying presents and enjoying the marvellous decorations for the first time, after several long, grey years.  
Much to his pleasure, he even found the poor boy he saw wandering in the streets the day before: he offered him a hot chocolate and some money, then, he led him to the tailor's shop, where the kind owner, Mrs Kostyk, was looking for an apprentice.  
The smile and the gratitude of that kid warmed his heart and, for a moment, Brekker wondered if Granny had felt the same way, when she saved him from the street.  
Less than a hour later, he had just hired a delivery boy to send a huge, fluffy teddy bear to Mr Fahey's house, as a present for Little Leila, when he saw Mr Specht walking on the same pavement, his face bright and merry.  
Kaz sighed: he could still walk away, since the chubby gentleman hadn't seen him, but he knew he was, as Granny often said, old enough to take his own responsibilities.  
After a long, deep breath, he approached him.  
“Good morning, Mr Specht,” he said, removing his top hat. “"How do you do? I hope you succeeded yesterday. It was very kind of you. A merry Christmas to you, sir.”  
The bearded gentleman frowned: “Mr Brekker?”  
“Yes, that is my name. And I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to apologise for yesterday evening, not only with words, but with a donation...”  
He whispered something at Mr Specht's ear. The man widened his blue eyes.  
“Lord bless me! My dear Brekker, are you serious?”  
“If you please,” the young businessman said. “Not a penny less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you.”  
  
  
  
Late in the afternoon, Mr Brekker finally limped to his cousins' home, with a large bag on his shoulder. He passed the door a dozen times, before he had the courage to go up and knock.  
A merry bark from the other side of the door made him shiver and, when it opened, a huge, white wolf jumped in his arms. Under the weight of the large creature, Kaz fell on the ground.  
“Trassel!” he exclaimed. “Stop, Trassel, stop!”  
“Trass!” a familiar, female voice called.  
When the wolf finally stopped his affectionate assault, Kaz found himself face to face with Inga Helvar.  
The girl's blue eyes widened.  
“Kaz?” she exclaimed, helping him to stand up. “What are you doing here?”  
“I...” the man hesitated. “Matthias invited me for dinner, so...”  
Inga looked at him, blinking, a confused expression on her young, ethereal face. Then, a huge smile curved her lips and she gave him a warm hug.  
“Oh, Kaz! We didn't expect you to accept the invitation! Come in! Granny will be so happy to see you!”  
She led him to the dining room, where people were already playing “Yes and No”.  
“Does it live in a zoo?”  
“No.”  
“Does it growl and grunt?”  
“Oh, yes, definitely!”  
“I have found it out! I know what is it, love!”  
“What is it, Granny?”  
“It's your...”  
Inga cleared her throat and, suddenly, silence fell. Kaz hesitated on the threshold, while several pairs of incredulous eyes were fixed on him.  
“... Cousin Kaz...” Matthias finally murmured.  
The businessman nervously clenched the grip on the head of his cane: “I have come to dinner. Will you let me in?”  
The blonde giant exchanged a surprised glance with his wife, then he looked at Inga, who nodded.  
His lips curved in a smile: “Sure, Cousin.”  
Before he could add anything, Kaz found himself in Granny's arms.  
“My child!” she cried, taking his gloved hands in hers and kissing them. “My dear child, I was almost losing all my hopes!”  
“Forgive me, Granny,” he murmured. “I made you wait so long...”  
The woman asked Inga to give her a clean napkin, then, she covered her hand with it and gently touched his cheek: “You're here, now. This is enough, to me.”  
After being properly greeted, Kaz opened the bag he took with him and started to dispense the gifts he bought that morning.  
Nina and Matthias' oldest daughter, Aenya, immediately approached the weird “Uncle”, smiling at the sight of a soft, stuffed cat, but Klaus, the little boy, who was only four, didn't remember that pale, sharp face and, at the beginning, he hid himself behind his father's legs. Only when his big sister called him, saying Uncle Kaz had a present for him too, the kid took courage and, when he had a beautiful, stuffed wolf in his little, plump hands, he finally gifted the man with a large smile.  
Even little Noëlle, who was giggling in her mother's arms, got a stuffed animal too, a small, white rabbit, with a blue ribbon on each ear.  
The children were so happy of their new toys they refused to leave them even when they sat at the large table, for dinner.  
And what a dinner they all had!  
The first bite of turkey took Kaz's mind back to his teenage years, when he and his new family attended Mr Redmakker's beautiful parties.  
“We should celebrate at my house, next year,” he proposed, serving some pudding in Granny's plate. “There's a ball room that hasn't seen a single soul in years. We can organize a party, like Mr Redmakker did.”  
His proposal was acclaimed with enthusiasm.  
  
  
  
It was almost ten o'clock when Mr Fahey and his family joined the party.  
Kaz had tried to prepare some speech for the meeting, but, when his young colleague entered the room, the words in his mind suddenly vanished and all he could do was sharing a long, embarrassed glance with the other man.  
“Brekker?” Jesper finally said. “What are you doing here?”  
“I... I came for dinner...” he replied, as it wasn't obvious.  
He tried to add something less stupid, when Little Leila, who had just shared an affectionate hug with Aenya and Klaus, approached him, visibly interested in his cane.  
Kaz noticed she had taken the big teddy bear with her and this made him smile.  
“Hi!” she said. “Do you use this to walk?”  
“Yes,” he answered. “I started to limp when I was a child.”  
“I have one too!” she smiled, showing him her crutch.  
“Yes, I see it. And you've also got a very nice teddy bear. What's their name?”  
Little Leila giggled: “Daffodil. Like my favourite flower.”  
“It's a beautiful name.”  
Kaz noticed the shocked glance Jesper and Wylan were exchanging, so he stood up and opened his mouth to say something, but, for the second time in that evening, words died in his throat.  
He had no idea his cousins were still waiting for someone else. And, according to their reactions, they were the first to be unsure about the last guest's arrival.  
With a cry of joy, Nina ran to greet a familiar, lovely young woman, hugging her and filling her face with kisses.  
Kaz's heart started to drum into his chest and, for a moment, he was almost tempted to hide behind Matthias or the Christmas tree in the corner, pretending to not exist.  
But the desire to meet her eyes soon won over his anxiety and fear.  
And when it happened... oh, when his glance was caught by those dark, beautiful gems, everything around him disappeared and a sweet heat filled his veins, he felt like his blood had been replaced by hot, delicious caramel syrup.  
She frowned and blinked, he could read a confused feeling of surprise in her eyes.  
Finally, he took courage, taking a few steps towards her and giving her a timid smile: “Hi, Inej.”  
“Hi, Kaz.” she replied, her voice the sweetest sound. “I... I didn't expect to see you here...”  
“Same for me... I've read a lot of articles about you. You did it. I'm so glad you realized your dream... you deserve it...”  
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I hope you realized your dreams too...”  
“I...”  
He hesitated for a little moment: “I think I have just started working to realize them. From this moment.”  
He gently took her hand and placed a little kiss on it.  
“Merry Christmas, Inej.”  
Her smile widened and he felt like he was standing on clouds.  
“Merry Christmas, Kaz.”  
  
  
  
The next day, when Mr Fahey entered the office, Kaz was already sitting at his desk, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. But his mind was elsewhere.  
It was when Jesper stood in front of the desk, clearing his throat, he finally woke up from his thoughts.  
“Oh... good morning, Mr Fahey...”  
“Good morning to you,” the young business partner replied. “I think we need to talk.”  
“Yes, we need. Please, have a sit.”  
Jesper sat on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, raising an eyebrow: “So... there's a lot I would like to ask you, but, first of all, where's the signboard?”  
Kaz took a little glance through the window: “I removed it. The new one should arrive in a couple of days.”  
Mr Fahey's green eyes widened: “You... you did what?”  
“I should have changed it last year, I know.”  
The taller man let a confused giggle out: “Okay, I know what happened. The signboard fell and hit your head. I have no other explanations.”  
“Jesper...”  
It was the first time Mr Brekker called his partner by his name: “I understand your astonishment. But you wouldn't believe me, if I told you what made me change in a single night. So... I'll just tell you I had been wrong all the time. My behaviour was horrible and unacceptable, I am deeply sorry for it. I hope you'll be able to accept my apologies and forgive me, someday.”  
Mr Fahey blinked, visibly shocked: “Well... woah. This is even more unexpected than finding you at a Christmas party... is there anything else I should be surprised of?”  
“Actually, there is.”  
Kaz sighed, leaning slightly forward on the desk: “I had no idea Van Eck's son was your boyfriend. What a situation that idiot left on your shoulders...”  
“Yeah, it's not easy. We tried to sell the house, but people don't want to live there. They think there's a curse on it or, something like that.” Mr Fahey raised his eyes to the ceiling, snorting. “That's absurd. But it's not so bad, we will make it.”  
“Jesper, I realized I never gave you a Christmas present. So, I was thinking that...”  
“Kaz,” the young man interrupted him, making a gesture. “It's very kind of you, but I will never accept it. Me and Wylan don't want anyone else to pay his father's debts.”  
Kaz curved his lips in a little smile: “I knew you would have said it. So I thought of a different present for you: I know medical research needs funds. I would like to donate every month, so they will find a cure for the disease that affects Little Leila.”  
“Oh,” Mr Fahey said. “In this case... who am I to refuse donations for medical research?”  
He looked straight into his colleague's eyes and, finally, he smiled back: “Thank you.”  
Kaz leaned back on his chair, letting a satisfied sigh out: “Well... we will be with no signboard for a couple of days... maybe we could take... a little vacation from work. What do you think, Mr Fahey? I'm sure your family would be glad to have you at home some days more. And about me... I might have a very important meeting for breakfast...”  
“An important meeting?” Mr Fahey inquired, giving his partner a malicious smile.  
Kaz felt a sudden heat on his cheeks, but tried to act chill: “Yes. The most important meeting of my life. I don't want to miss it.”  
Jesper's glance softened: “Go to her. Merry Christmas, Kaz.”  
“Merry Christmas, Jesper.”  
They closed the office, saying each other goodbye, then, they walked in opposite directions.  
While walking to the elegant pastry shop he chose for the meeting, Kaz felt nervous, and excited, and fearful and happy at the same time.  
But when he saw Inej waiting for him at the entrance of the shop, all his emotions converged in a single, strong feeling: love.  
She smiled at him, waving her hand, and he felt like he could leave his cane on the ground and ran to her, taking her in his arms to never let her go.  
Light in his heart, he walked towards her. Towards a new dream. Towards a new future.  
And a good future was the one he chose, no doubts about it.  
He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge.  
May that be truly said of us, and all of us!  
And so, as Little Leila observed, God bless us, every one! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!  
> I loved writing this story and I really hope you liked it.  
> Thank you to everyone who read and left/will leave kudos and comments, your support means a lot to me!  
> Really, thank you!
> 
> Lynn


End file.
